


show me what you got now come and make it worth my while

by pmcculers



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, lap dance, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:31:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pmcculers/pseuds/pmcculers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>modern day AU. peggy gets home from an awful day to find out angie's might have been worse, but they've always been the best at cheering each other up.</p><p>"You can’t help but smile a bit at the thought of Angie, feeling incredibly glad that if you have to put up with your agent’s bullshit every day at work, at least you have Angie to come home to."</p>
            </blockquote>





	show me what you got now come and make it worth my while

**Author's Note:**

> the existence of this fic is entirely ingrid's (hayleyatwow.tumblr.com) fault and it's dedicated to her.
> 
>  
> 
> hmu @ paigemcculers.tumblr.com to discuss Peggy's kink for being called a good girl :)

This day has been one of the worst days you’ve had in weeks, and you just absolutely cannot wait for it to just be over. You start getting rid of the pins on your hair while still riding the elevator up to your apartment floor, finally letting your hair fall free from the tight professional bun it had been on all day. You can’t wait to get out of your Director Carter clothes, put every crappy thing that happened today behind you and be able to just relax with some sweatpants on, a glass of wine and, if Angie happens to be in a better mood than you are, maybe some grilled _polentas_. You can’t help but smile a bit at the thought of Angie, feeling incredibly glad that if you have to put up with your agent’s bullshit every day at work, at least you have Angie to come home to. And maybe, hopefully, some foot massage, because these heels are just bloody killing you.

Those are the first to go as soon as you walk through the front door, wriggling your toes to try and get some blood circulating down there. You hang up your purse on the rack at the entrance, drop the hair pins on the table at the entryway then step further into the apartment.

“Angie, darling, are you-?” you call as you round the corner to your left and step into the living room of your shared apartment, freezing at the scene in front of you. _Bloody hell, this cannot be good,_  you think. Your couch and coffee table have been pushed aside and in the middle of the room is Angie, wearing a black sports bra and black lycra shorts, seated with her knees crossed under her, the line of her back rigid, each of her hands resting on one knee and quite a deep scowl on her face. Not that you needed that to realize Angie was not in a good mood. Your perky, energetic girlfriend trying the whole healthy-body and healthy-mind yoga thing? That means that in a scale of bad days Angie’s had been at least a 9,5. You imagine that her callback didn’t go well at all and she might have possibly been hit on by one of the rude costumers she gets at the diner. Also, maybe a bird pooped in her head because her clearly wet hair is tied in a really tight bun on the top of her head.

You think about stepping back, maybe going to the bedroom, getting into those sweatpants, and let Angie pretend for a bit more that she’s actually trying to free her mind of all thoughts and focus on her breathing – or whatever it is you’re supposed to do during yoga, you’ve never been quite sure-, even though you’re pretty sure you can hear her mumbling what is probably a rant in Italian, full of curses that would make Angie’s older brother very proud. Before you can even lift a leg to start backing out of the room Angie’s eyes snap open.

“This Yoga thing is such bullshit, Pegs, how am I supposed to stop feeling angry when I have to stay still and focus on breathing? I breathe every day, it’s not something I gotta be focused to do. We need to get that boxing bag that we always talk about so you can teach me how to punch things. Now **that** oughta be relaxing.” You try very hard to suppress an amused grin as Angie’s hands fly around her body wildly, hard scowl still in place even as her voice relaxes gradually.

“I take it you did not have a pleasant day, dear?” You try for a supportive smile, even as your neck throbs slightly from the pent up tension of your own terrible day. You watch as Angie huffs something that sounds vaguely like _‘Di merda’_ – and you guess that sounds about right to describe both your days - then stands up and starts to stretch out her body, which you are quite sure it’s the right thing to do after any kind of exercise, but also very distracting. You lean against the wall and watch intently as Angie links her fingers and stretches both arms above her head, entranced by the way the muscles on Angie’s abs and arms seem to tighten and move around under her skin. Only after she has lowered her arms back down and starts shaking them off a bit you realize Angie has been staring just as intently at you, the little smirk pulling at her lips a welcome sight after the scowl that had been in its place.

“And by the way you been moving your neck around and trying to stop your eyebrows from doing that frowny thing, I’ll guess yours wasn’t much better, huh? But I gotta say I think mine will be the winner tonight, Peg.” Angie walks up to you and traces her fingers down the red skinny tie around your neck – you know it’s her absolute favorite and you wear it just for the way your girlfriend tightly grabs it every single time without fail -, she tugs you in for a quick kiss, her nose brushing against yours softly, and you feel your neck and shoulders relax instantly.

“It was bloody awful, yes,” you huff as you grab Angie’s bare waist with both hands, pulling her in for a longer kiss, breath catching on your throat when Angie pulls on your bottom lip with her teeth.

“Tell me about your day, English," she mumbles against your lips as she slips her hands under the blazer of your black suit, pushing it off your shoulders. It falls in a heap on the floor, as does your stomach when Angie loosens your tie, but leaves it on and starts unbuttoning your white shirt. A soft and surprised _‘Oh’_ comes out of your lips before you begin to nervously ramble on.

Your wide eyes follow Angie’s hands as she untucks the shirt from your suit pants and pulls it off, letting it join your blazer on the floor. She hums softly to show you she is paying attention to what you’re saying. You don’t really believe she is, judging by the way  her eyes follow her hands down your torso without blinking once, her hands stopping only to slowly trace the contours of your black bra then moving down your stomach, you unconsciously flex it as you hold your breath and Angie looks up at you with a broad smile before continuing down towards the button of your pants.

She keeps her eyes locked with yours as she kneels down, your mouth goes dry when she presses soft small kisses to the skin above your pants and slowly pops the button open and pulls the zipper down. Angie starts tugging them down and all you can think, even as you keep going on about your day, is that you’re very glad you took the time to choose your underwear this morning and didn’t just pick the most comfortable one, the one that has little pigs with wings all over it. Even though it has happened before, so you know Angie would just laugh at it, call you adorable – which you most definitely are not - and move on, the way Angie stares intently at your lacy black underwear before looking up at you with a very satisfied grin and a quirked eyebrow makes something inside your stomach turn very pleasantly. It always does.

You watch through your heaving chest as Angie pulls your pants through each foot then throws them to join the rest of your clothes. You feel your knees tremble slightly –even though you’d never admit it to anyone besides your girlfriend – when Angie’s eyes travel all the way from your chins, stopping at your thighs and reaching out, clutching onto them with both hands, and then all the way to your face, her heated gaze stopping on your red lips before meeting your eyes. Your breath hitches in the middle of a sentence, about how you need to find more women to work directly with you since men are all pigheaded idiots, when Angie stands up and her absurdly gorgeous face is suddenly very close to your own. You suppose you were wrong about Angie not paying attention to your words, because she nods and hums her agreement, so you keep talking.

You ramble on as you watch Angie walk up to the dining table and pull out a chair, bringing it to where she was trying to do yoga before. You quirk an eyebrow when Angie’s eyes meet yours again, even though you’re pretty sure you know what is happening now. Angie only grins brightly and nods at you and then the chair. You follow the order and sit on the chair, watching as Angie messes around in the stereo before a strong beat comes out of the stereo boxes placed in your living room. She turns and honest to God **struts** back to where you’re sitting, with a mischievous glint in her eye.

You are absolutely sure that Angie is not paying attention to a word you’re saying right now, but you keep talking as you fidget nervously on the chair, watching as Angie lets her hair out of its bun with slow deliberate – and sexy as bloody hell - movements. She shakes her hair out and then pushes the small curls back with one hand, and you’re sure you’d fall for all of those stupid hair products commercials if Angie was the one doing them.

Your voice does an embarrassingly high-pitched noise in the middle of a sentence when Angie reaches for the top of her shorts and slowly drags them down her long tanned legs. She smiles wickedly at you as she throws her shorts in the direction of the growing pile of clothes, leaving her in only the new found red underwear and the black sports bra.

You realize you should stop talking, you really do. As you run your eyes over Angie’s beautiful strong legs, up to the salient muscles of her abs, taking your time to admire how well the sports bra hugs her chest, her boobs firm even as they threaten to jump out of it, you know you should stop talking. Still you keep running down the long, long list of things the new intern, Agent Thompson, had managed to screw up today, as your eyes admire the elegant line of Angie’s shoulders and the way they connect to her long neck, down to her beautiful collarbones – you stand by what you have said many times, having collarbones that attractive should be absolutely illegal, you’ll probably make up a law about it someday for, you know, international security.

When you finally get to Angie’s gorgeous face, starting on the sharp and beautiful angle of her jaw, you startle when you notice that Angie’s staring at you with her face scrunched up in disbelief, her hands positioned indignantly on her hips. You quickly shut your mouth in the middle of your sentence.

“Seriously, English? There’s sexy music on and I’m literally standing half-naked in front of you, so shut up!” You’re sure you look quite wide-eyed as you stare at Angie for a minute, gaping at her.

“Yo-you said to tell you…about my day?” You falter mid-sentence as Angie takes the two steps separating the two of you, her bare legs barely grazing yours. You clutch at the chair tightly with both hands and you swear no one besides Angie will ever hear your voice get that high-pitched and unsure.

“Well, now I’m saying that I can either put some clothes on and we can talk about our shitty days or I can stay half-naked and cheer both of us up.”  She then grabs the tie still around your neck and places one leg on each side of your body, effectively straddling your lap. “Your choice, English.” You hear the way your breath shudders even through the loud beating of your heart on your ears, so you have no doubt Angie hears it too. The shit-eating grin on her lips confirms that. She’s always taken immense pleasure in the way she’s able to unravel you without much effort.

“The second option, please.” She pulls you by the tie to a hard kiss that you respond to immediately, your tongue slipping through her lips as soon as they open. She sucks on your tongue before pulling away slowly. You open your eyes to find Angie still has hers closed, a goofy grin on her lips that brings a wide smile to your own. You nuzzle her left cheek, questioning quietly, “Am I allowed to touch you during it?”

Angie’s eyes pop open and she grins brightly. Your stomach turns so pleasantly you feel your fingers ache from how tightly you’re holding on to the chair. She hums as she pretends to ponder it, her hands quickly undoing your tie. She takes her time, grazing her fingers on the top of your breasts before slipping the tie off. She pecks your lips before standing up, and you lean forward to kiss the soft stomach that’s right in front of you.

Angie steps away from you and around to the back of the chair, she pulls your hair aside and starts placing soft kisses right behind your left ear. You close your eyes tightly, biting your bottom lip to hold back a whimper. Angie reaches for your hands and you let go of the chair hesitantly, she pulls your hands together on the back of the chair and ties them together with your tie. She racks her teeth through your ear before speaking gleefully.

“Maybe in a few, hun.” You take a deep shuddering breath and nod in understanding, a promise that, even though you absolutely could, you won’t free yourself from the bonds until Angie allows it. You’re rewarded when Angie licks a straight line from the base of your neck to the back of your ear in a torturous move. “Good girl.” You slide your eyes shut and move around the chair subtly looking for some friction, only slightly ashamed of the effect those words have on your body.

Angie trails her hand along your shoulders, walking back into your line of vision, she stands only two feet away from you and starts swaying her hips slowly. You lick at your dry lips as your eyes try to take all of Angie in at once, the flexing muscles of her abs, the way she runs her hands through her breasts and down her torso. She slowly turns her back to you, shaking her hips more purposely as she reaches for her own hair, grabbing tightly at it with both hands and you involuntarily tug at the tie keeping your hands together with a frustrated noise from the back of your throat. She looks at you over her shoulder, a broad grin on her face showing she knows exactly how she’s affecting you. She runs her hands through her hair, eyes locked with yours before you let them drop to her ass. It looks absolutely amazing as she sways her hips, hugged tightly by her red underwear and you desperately want to reach out to touch it. You want to touch her, let your fingers stroke the sharp line of her cheekbones, watch as goosebumps rise when you trail them through her body. You are quite sure you’ll have to replace this tie after Angie is done with you.

“ **English** _,_ ” She turns around when she sees you struggling against the tie and quirks her eyebrow pointedly .“You promised to be **good**.”

“Angie…” You are clearly over being ashamed as you call out to her in a whine, you’re just about done with the distance and not being able to feel any part of her body. Angie seems to understand as she turns to you and steps forward, she crouches down and grabs your knees, spreading your legs apart. She looks up to you though her eyelashes and you swallow hard, panting as your hips buck slightly, gathering up every scrap of self-control you have left. No torturer, interrogator or lover has ever been able to break you down as quickly and efficiently as Angela Martinelli does. She runs her hands up and down your thighs as she rolls her body to the beat of whatever song is on at the moment and you just really want to reach out and pull at her curls, the way you know drives her crazy.

She must sense your desperation, because she chuckles and stands up, bent over towards you she taps your legs softly and you close them quickly. Angie straddles your lap and pushes her fingers through your hair, her short nails scraping at your scalp and you allow yourself a chocked up moan of relief for finally having her body on yours. The soft smile on Angie’s face as her hips roll against yours would feel absolutely out of place if she were anyone else, but you’ll be damned if it doesn’t make her look even sexier. She pulls you in for a long, slow kiss, her fingers digging harder into your head and you finally snap, you buck your hips forward and tug on her bottom lip with your teeth, your hands fighting against the grip of your tie.

Angie pulls on your hair and you release her lip, only to groan in distress when she bites down on it, her mouth curling up in what you’re sure would be an incredibly aggravating smirk otherwise. She gnaws on it, ocean blue eyes shifting all over your face, reading you in a way only she can. You lean back as much as you possibly can so you can look down and watch her body move against yours, your eyes locked on her rotating hips. Angie cups your cheek with her hands until you look up to meet her eyes, she presses her lips against yours before mumbling against them.

“You’ve been so **good** , Peg.” You buck your hips wildly, trying to get any kind of friction from Angie’s body, but she just presses her hips down, holding you against the chair, a low chuckle leaving her lips. You try to glare as best you can, but Angie only smiles and kisses you again, smiling sweetly against your lips when you try to deepen it. She then uses your shoulders to push herself forward, reaching out for your hands behind the chair. You surge forward to reach the top of her breasts, you bite and suck at them, relishing from getting to touch her at least. Angie moans throatily and it takes more time than it usually would for her to get your hands untied.

As soon as the knot is loose enough you force your hands out of the tie –from the sound you hear you’re quite sure you actually did tear a piece of it out –, you grab at Angie’s hip with one hand, pulling her down against you, and pull at her hair with the other until she arches her back and cranes her neck, so you’re able to latch your mouth onto it. Angie groans throw gritted teeth and curls a hand around the back of your neck, digging her nails in. She grinds down forcefully, matching the rhythm of your hips and you pull her face down so you can kiss her. The kiss is sloppy, rushed and full of teeth, and that kind of desperation only serves to turn you on more.

“Peg- oh, _Dio santo_!” Angie bucks hard against you when you grab her ass with both hands, her other hand coming up to cup your face. “English, bedroom, **now**.” You definitely don’t need to be told twice. You immediately stand up and Angie wraps her legs around your waist, firmly smashing your lips back together. You take one hand off Angie’s ass to grab at her hair with it as you walk towards the general direction of your bedroom. You squeeze her ass and pull at her hair and she tries to grind against your stomach while you’re still walking, which is counterproductive to the idea that you both need to get to the bedroom in one piece for the next part of your evening. You press Angie against the hallway wall, move your mouth to suck at her right collarbone and let her grind against your stomach for the friction she needs.

After a minute Angie pushes your face away from her body and nods eagerly towards the bedroom door and you immediately carry her to the safety of your bedroom. You drop Angie on your bed and kiss her deeply before pulling away and standing up to take your bra and underwear off. Angie is sprawled on the bed watching you intently and you smile widely at her when you realize her mouth, her neck and the top of her breasts are marked with your red lipstick.

“It seems your mood has been lifted, Ms. Carter. That mean my method’s been approved?” Angie wiggles her eyebrows at you with her most exaggeratedly flirtatious grin and you can’t hold on to the hearty laugh that makes its way through your lips. Angie’s whole face lights up with joy at the sound and something tugs warmly at your heart. You quickly get out of your underwear and crawl your way to the center of the bed, until you’re face to face with your smiling girlfriend.

“It most certainly does, my darling.” You dangle your handcuffs in front of her face and thrive at the way Angie’s eyes widen and her throats bobs from how hard she swallows. “Let’s see how well my method works out, shall we?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
